


Three Christmases

by Paycheckgurl



Category: Mystery Science Theater 3000
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Developing Relationship, Earth based, F/M, Families of Choice, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mistletoe, Multi-Era, Post MST3k The Return, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 10, Post-Season/Series 11, Season/Series 05, reformed kinga, small amount of Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 06:59:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13071561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paycheckgurl/pseuds/Paycheckgurl
Summary: Scenes of Christmas in the Not So Distant Past and the Not So Distant Future.





	Three Christmases

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the_technicolor_whiscash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_technicolor_whiscash/gifts).



> Thank you Speccygeekgrrl for beta-ing! 
> 
> Merry Christmas Technicolor Whiscash!!! I hope you enjoy!

 

December 24th, 1993

_And I’ll be home for Christmas...if only in my dreams._

Australia could not be further from home. Any home Joel Robinson had ever known. The people were nice enough, even if Joel was awkward with them. He tried not to talk too much because the amount of talking you were supposed to do with another human being was really something he’d never grasped even before the being taken captive, and now it felt like some kind of essential formula that had passed him over. Not enough and you’re antisocial (and if you have Joel’s demeanor, get accused of being bored). Too much and you’re annoying (and if you’re Joel, apparently you’re “preachy” or “give lectures like some kind of elementary school teacher”).

Still the band didn’t not like him, and they were okay to be around when it came time to unwind. He was good at his job. Even before Mystery Science Theater he’d been fascinated by what went into making movies, especially the sciencey bits, and he’d taken a few elective classes in college on pyrotechnics. Engineering school. Good for more than just building robots with highly advanced AI to keep your sanity, or getting a job as a janitor at a prestigious R & D institution.

But as December crawled on the feeling that he didn’t quite fit in here was knocking around his brain again. Part of it was just, an Australian Christmas was not a Midwestern Christmas. The one thing he could say about having growing up in Wisconsin and relocating to Minneapolis in adulthood, was that a white Christmas was pretty much a given. So was a white Thanksgiving a lot of years, whether you wanted one or not. It certainly wasn’t one hundred degrees during the day, and there certainly weren’t commercials urging you to get a new “barbie” in time for a Christmas cookout, or PSAs reminding you to wear sunblock this holiday.

In space there wasn’t snow very often, but there was the appropriate amount of cold and more than enough odds and ends to really drive the spirit of the season home. Christmas lights and holiday sweaters. His bots even got in on the fun, with Servo temporarily switching his globe out for a snow globe. Crow donned that reindeer getup even though Joel knew very well he didn’t necessarily _want_ to.

Joel stared at the black sky above him. The stars glittering above the outback. That’s what he really missed. His family. Not his Earth family. His father had died when he was in college. His mother had been mostly unconcerned with not seeing him in person for years, and only ever really called once in a blue moon for a short chat. No, what he missed was his bots. His kids. They were still up there, and this was their first Christmas without him. What he wanted was to be with them. Desperately. He watched the sky above and the shimmering stars. He did some quick calculations in his head and looked due North. That one. That one should be the Satellite of Love.

“Merry Christmas Cambot. Merry Christmas Gypsum. Merry Christmas Tom Servo. Merry Christmas Crow.”

They couldn’t hear him way down here of course. The only other sound right now other than his voice was a chorus of crickets. But it was enough to, just for a moment, indulge his memories of being home with them.

As Joel watched from Earth all those millions of miles away, up above Mike Nelson, clad in his brand new Joike sweater, received a package that the Mads had just sent up that had been addressed to the info club. The return address had been furiously scribbled out with a sharpie, and by the looks of things an angry face had been drawn next to it in Dr. Forrester’s handwriting. Weird. The package was huge, and heavy. Mike found that he wasn’t really able to lift it, and had to stand on the console to cut it open.

Inside were presents, each addressed to one of the bots. A new set of Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea VHS tapes, containing only episodes Gypsum didn’t have yet, and a framed picture of Richard Basehart with-was that his signature?! Gyps was going to flip. Crow had a shiny new word processing software for his computer which came with a saved message reading “sorry buddy but you still can’t decide who lives and dies.” There was also yet another signed picture, this one of Kim Cattrall. Who was dropping this kind of money on them? Whoever this was they had to be a superfan. Cambot got a fancy lens cleaning kit and a set of ear muffs that fit over his casing perfectly. Servo’s was the reason the box was so big. He got a drivable little red car perfectly sized to him. At the very bottom was a note. It wasn’t very long, consisting of only one line.

_Dear Mike,_

_Thanks. For everything._

Mike just stared at it.

“Well, Merry Christmas and thanks to you, whoever you are.”

* * *

December 20th, 1999

 _Have yourself a merry little Christmas_  
_Let your heart be light_ _  
From now on your troubles will be out of sight_

 “Can you tell me about the gap on your resume?”

Mike was used to hearing this at this point. But still, right before Christmas he was thankful that he had a job interview at all. He gave his usual hand wave about being in a media R & D experiment. And then he watched the hiring manager’s skeptical eyebrow do some impressive acrobatics as he shot her his crooked smile. The smile was meant to be reassuring, but might sometimes read “destroyer of worlds”. At least _that_ little tidbit had yet to show up on a background check.

The interviewer went through the motions, but by “we’ll be in touch”, he knew damn well he didn’t get the job. His shoulders sagged in the lobby. He’d managed to find a place at another temp agency, but temping wasn’t going to pay the bills for himself plus the bots. He needed something secure. Something with regular hours and a steady paycheck.

He boarded the bus and looked out the window and the blustering snowfall which was starting up. Sometimes he missed the Satellite. He spent years trying to come up with a way to escape it, but now he missed it. He missed the routines. Not having to worry about adult responsibilities like paying utility bills, or keeping the apartment from being such a mess that the landlord threatened to evict them if they didn’t transform it into “not a fire hazard.” He missed being able to get the bots whatever they needed if he sweet talked Frank or Pearl enough, or could argue it was somehow for the good of the experiment.

Which brought him to his current worries. This year the Christmas budget was kind of tight, and abstract wishes like Crow’s desire to decide who lives and dies weren’t going to be the only things on the wishlist left unchecked. He was way too proud to ask Gyps for some help on that front. He was way, way too proud to ask Joel. Joel had been nice enough to offer up his place for Thanksgiving. He’d been taking the bots on weekends and whenever Mike needed to make sure the apartment was going to be emergency free while he went on interviews. The man had already done more enough for him. Not to mention asking for a loan from someone you were a attracted to had to be the least sexy thing in the world. Oh _damn it_. He did it again.

 _We’re not going there Nelson_ , he told himself. _You haven’t even figured out if Joel’s into guys yet_.

He walked home from the bus stop with his hands shoved in his pockets, kind of downtrodden. His first Christmas aboard the SOL the bots had tried to arrange for a Nelson family reunion. They’d found the wrong bunch of Nelsons from the wrong corner of Wisconsin. It was a nice thought though, and fed into a hope Mike had that his first Christmas back was going to be a real family affair. He’d gotten the brush aside for Thanksgiving from everyone, plans made in advance that assumed he wouldn’t be around still and all that, but his home for Christmas dream held. Until Eddy got himself arrested for some dumbass loitering thing, his parents announced they were going to take some time away from the farm to deal with the emotional stress of it all. He was pretty sure they never bothered to go get away from it all as a consequence of their oldest son being held captive for five years (or five hundred depending on how you wanted to count it). But sure, he thought. Whatever. Thanks Ma. Thanks Dad. Have fun in Florida or wherever.

The frigid Minnesota air nipped at the bit of his face not covered by his hat or scarf. It prompted him to quicken his pace. He needed to get home now and get out of the cold. As he walked up to his too small first floor apartment however, he was greeted by a curious sight. The bots were outside.

“DISSSSSTRAAAAAACCCCCCCTTTTTTTIOOOOOOOOOON” yelled Crow as loud as the bot’s voice box seemed to allow.

“What,” said Mike flatly.

“We’re distracting you, Nelson,” said Servo who was hovering as close to his face as he could get, and was persistently refusing to be swatted away. “Isn’t it obvious?”

So it was going to be that kind of day.

“Could you guys at least distract me inside the building? It’s below freezing.”

“It’s December in Minneapolis. It’s always below freezing,” countered Servo.

“That’s kinda my point,” said Mike.

“Oh I see. Just because you need to maintain a consistent body heat, and you’re warm blooded you want to retreat to the modern convenience of central heating? For shame Mike, for shame.”

“Right well,” Mike grabbed Servo from the air and held him like a football. The bot tried to wiggle and hover his way out of his embrace, but Mike really wasn’t in the mood right now. Crow made a token attempt to spread out his arms in front of the door and block his path, but the spindly Golden robot was almost laughably easy to check to the side. With Servo still under his arm, he forced his way into the apartment which was conspicuously left unlocked. Success! And...huh?

The little one bedroom had been transformed. Or was in the process of being transformed at any rate. The pathetic Charlie Brown-esque miniature Christmas tree Mike had liberated from a local Dollar General, had been replaced with a real bonafide pine, decked out in bulbs and twinkling little lights. There were presents under that tree, all neatly wrapped with the precision of a store display. Cambot was off to the side, happily playing recordings of some Bing Crosby Christmas songs. The smell of fresh baked cookies filled the air. In addition to a tray of hot chocolate chip cookies on the counter, there was a neat stack of already frosted gingerbreads sitting next to a ceramic Santa Claus statuette. On the ceiling were garlands being carefully strung in perfect loops. Attached to the bottom of the lights being strung were none other Joel and Gypsum.

Mike stood slack jawed as he took the scene in.

“Gyps? When did you get in? And Joel what’s going on...this is wow. I don’t know what to say just...wow.”

He let Servo out of his hold and stood and just took in the sight of all the lights, and the new warm glow they gave the apartment.

“Mike!” declared Gypsum happily as she plowed her way over to take him into a hug. “It’d be even more ‘wow’ if two certain someone's had managed to do their one job and keep you distracted until we were done.” Despite her only eye consisting of a pretty inexpressive flashlight, the large purple robot managed to glare at the two smaller robots.

“He didn’t want to stay outside!” whined Crow.

“Guys,” said Joel, “when I said distract Mike I meant ask him to drive you down to the corner store or something. Not try to turn him into a popsicle.”

It occurred to Mike that he was still wearing a snow covered jacket and a hat which was soaked through. He started slowly removing these items, as Joel rushed over to help him take off his jacket. Normally he would have protested, this was his house after all, he could put up his own coat, but he was still pretty shocked and he wasn’t about to tell Joel _not_ to touch his arms. He might have turned a bit red, and it wasn’t from the cold.

“Come on in, and stay a while. That is why we did this.”

Mike, still feeling a bit dumbfounded, followed Joel to the couch.

“You guys really went full Christmas Town...it’s...thanks. Gyps, this is really amazing.”

“Of course Mike, but most of this was Joel’s idea.”

Mike’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as Joel blushed bashfully.

“It’s nothing really. Just, my first Christmas on Earth after the Satellite wasn’t that great and I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t deal with the same kind of thing. And when the bots told me you weren’t doing anything for the holidays this year, I figured I’d try to help. SOL captives stick together, until the whole world ends, right?”

Mike smiled. Maybe not the best reference given Mike’s habit of destroying whole worlds, but Joel’s meaning was clear. “Something like that.”

“I’m taking the next week off unless there’s an emergency at my company so we can all spend the 24th and 25th together!” declared Gypsum through a mouthful of garland. “New Years too!”

“Don’t worry too much about the electric bill either,” said Joel. “These are all eco friendly lights Gypsum’s company is test marketing. They’re supposed to save a ton of power.”

“And the hippies save Christmas,” joked Mike, because if he didn’t fall back on lame attempts at jokes right now he might actually start crying over how great this all was, and Tom and Crow would probably never let him live it down.

“I know I keep saying it, but really, thanks.”

A hug was too forward and every single type of dorky right? Right. By the time his brain made this decision, his body had already reacted without him and was embracing one particularly adorable Joel Robinson. And now his brain was refusing to let his body let go of him. To his surprise the bots had quickly crossed room and had turned this into a real group a hug. A family group hug.

Growing up Mike’s family was never like this. They didn’t outwardly show affection, and when they teased each other it wasn’t necessarily in a brotherly way. But this, his weird little space refugee family, this is how it was supposed to be. Suddenly not spending Christmas with his parents seemed to matter a lot less, because Mike was right where he was supposed to be.

“I would say Merry Christmas,” said Tom “But we still have like a week.”

“Merry winter, over commercial time right before Christmas where we shoehorn as much family and togetherness crap as we can!” declared Crow in an excited tone.

Joel stayed with arms squeezing Mike for just a brief moment longer.

“And done!” declared Gypsum as she hung the last of the garlands. “Mike, do you mind pouring a round of eggnog for everyone in the kitchen?”

“Sure thing Gyps,”

“Joel, go with Mike so he doesn’t trip and break the mugs all over my cookies or something.”

“Hey! I’m perfectly capable of…”

Joel was already up and following Mike to the kitchen.

_Ugh. Thanks, Gyps, for reminding Joel what a klutz I am…_

Right above the kitchen was a conspicuously placed bundle of mistletoe. So conspicuously placed if say, two people entered the kitchen together they’d both end up directly under it. Joel and Mike were both directly under it.

“Oh,” said Joel looking up, blushing. “I guess it is tradition.”

He went for it, grabbing Mike into a pretty damn amazing, open mouthed kiss.

The bots had all gathered around, and there was a chorus of “ooooohhhhhs”. Cambot, apparently feeling an extra bit cheeky, had started playing “All I Want for Christmas is You.”

“Oh come on now Cambot, Winter Wonderland is the better Christmas love song anyways. Though I will thank you for saving us from being subjected to Santa Baby.”

Mike’s mind was still processing that had actually happened. His hand unconsciously brushed his lips. But was that just a gag? Did Joel really mean it or…?

Joel kissed him again. A shorter, quicker peck, but enough for it to count as a true feeling cementing second kiss.

“Merry over commercial time right before Christmas, Mike.”

“Merry over commercial time right before Christmas, Joel.”

Neither man heard the phone ring as they basked in the moment. But once Mike checked the message machine later that day there was a second interview request waiting for him.

* * *

 

December 23rd, 2021

 _Here to stay is a new bird_  
_He sings a love song, as we go along_ _  
Walking in a winter wonderland_

The lab tech looked awed. “OMGJonahHestonNoWay”. Jonah smiled, because he really wasn’t sure what else to do this in this situation. He’d had a bit of a reputation at Gizmonic before his time on the SOL. He never really knew what to do with that reputation because it was pretty antithetical to anything he knew about himself. Some Gizmocrats thought of him as the rebel that marched to his own drum (literally in the case of his thesis). But even though he was willing to think on his feet to get things done, he didn’t think that made him cool or worthy of any kind of praise. If anything rules lawyering Gizmonic to allow for certain supplies or to let him mod a ship just felt like an extension of being the nerd he was picked on for being in high school. But then that was the thing about Gizmocrats: nerdy was cool around them.

Still after escaping the satellite, meteors in tow, that reputation had only grown. He wasn’t quite a legend to the level Joel Robinson was around (Joel, Mike, and the bots stopped by to hang out on his lunch breaks sometimes, and he was fairly certain he’d seen at least one student faint at the sight of them). But he was definitely known and people whispered a lot. Or occasionally, fanboyed and fangirled out. But mainly Jonah just worried that they were all secretly making fun of him. So when greeted with over enthusiastic fans he just smiled patiently and waited.

Suddenly the lab tech looked even more shocked and more awed. Jonah looked to the door, and realized just a little too late what, or rather who, had prompted that reaction.

“Omg Kinga Forrester! No way! What’s it like to have build a successful television revival, only to have it completely snatched from you when your test subject escaped? Or to be cleared of the crime of kidnapping because you had legal jurisdiction over the Dark Side of the Moon, but to be forced to work as a lab assistant to your former captive at the Gizmonic Institute because you couldn’t get a job literally anywhere else? Can I have your autograph?”

Jonah winced.

“Uh hey,” he said. “I think Dr. Trace mentioned he had needed to swap out some beakers in lab 33. I’d hate to interrupt but can you go check on that?”

The tech looked a bit defeated, but dragged their feet and went to check.

Kinga let out a long sigh.

“You know,” said Jonah. “You could just tell them the truth when they get like that.”

“What, that I let you dorks go on purpose because I decided to forge my own path beyond my family destiny and yadda yadda? Then I just look soft to them. Besides, I think that one wasn’t going to leave us alone no matter what. And it’s not like the bit about not being able to get a job literally anywhere else isn’t true. I’m not evil enough for the Fraternal Order of Mad Scientists anymore and no respectable company wants to even try with someone that was once a self declared supervillain.”

“Well…”

“Apparently to make it in the mass media markets you have to pretend you’re not evil though everyone knows you are.”

Kinga sighed and the two started their invention exchange, the traditional Gizmonic greeting. In the spirit of the upcoming holiday, Jonah made a hat that made it snow on just your head “not be confused as dandruff and completely useless in the harsh midwestern winters around Gizmonics” and Kinga invented a scenery shield for the Elf on the Shelf “for when that dumb little imp is annoying the crap out of you with its smug little painted face.”

The two worked in silence on their ongoing project for while, before Jonah started striking up some friendly conversation.

“So any grand plans for Christmas?”

Kinga sighed. As she gave her explanation about how just about everyone she knew was out of town, or Jonah as suspected in the case of her grandmother, actually shunning her, he made a snap decision.

“You know I’m not going home to my parents’ this year. I saw them for Thanksgiving, but with the way the research schedule has been, having to put time in on the flight simulator before they send me back up on my next space assignment, and just the cost of jet fuel to get over there right now...I’m going to have to Skype in my Mele Kalikimaka. I’m pretty sure Mom thinks me spending Christmas somewhere with actual snow on the ground is against nature, but she’ll get over it.”

Kinga actually smiled a bit despite herself. “Sometimes I forget you’re from Hawaii. Why’d you decide to leave tropical palm tree land and come to the great land of Snow and Cows anyways?”

“Fast track to space piloting. And also...well...I might have kind of watched a few... _hundred_...Mystery Science Theater tapes as a kid.”

“Fate is a strange, cold mistress,” she laughed.

“Cold in the literal sense sure, but...I kinda don’t regret it? I mean you really did pick the worst films you could find, but aside from the occasional deep hurting I really didn’t mind that much. If it inconvenienced me a tad less I’d go so far as to say I liked it. The reason I’m bringing all of this up though is...Kinga, do you maybe want to spend Christmas together? You don’t have to or anything. It’s just you’re not doing anything and well…It’s not that I’m taking pity on you or anything. It’s just that if you have nothing better to do the offer for some company is on the table. No strings. I have Christmas Eve off. Christmas Day is on the table too if you want to push it.”

“That...that’d actually probably suck a whole lot less than marathoning _A Christmas Prince_ alone in my apartment again. Sure Heston, let’s do that.”

Jonah felt a little fuzzy. Probably because it felt good doing good deeds around Christmas. Although he had just kind of accidentally invited a former Mad to the Christmas Party he was going to. Joel and Mike’s Christmas party.

They’d probably be understanding.

 

“You what?!” exclaimed Mike later that day at the Nelson-Robinson household. Shocked would have been a bit of an understatement to describe Mike’s face with in the moment. Startled was definitely not strong enough. Flabbergasted with a twinge of horrified thrown in?

Well, this was going great so far, thought Jonah.

“Come on, she has nowhere else to go. Pearl, Bobo and Brain Guy are doing...whatever it is they do when they’re in space, and Max is spending time with his dad while he’s doing his soul taking thing. I have literally no idea what Synthia’s doing but it apparently involves Terry in some way. I can’t leave her alone on _Christmas_.”

“Hey Jonah, remember that time she kidnapped us?” said Crow. “And held us against our wills for years? Or all those times she threatened us with EMPs and you with a cattle prod? The multiple times she did that?”

“Okay we all know she didn’t _really_ mean the stuff about hurting us.”

Probably not the best way Jonah could have put that from the skeptical look Crow was giving him. But thing was, that was the truth. Even before her path to a heel-face turn, Kinga’s threats were about trying to trick everyone around her into falling in line with her as an authority figure. Aside from the fact hurting Jonah himself or any of the bots would hurt her bottom line and throw off her production cycle, they’d caught her when the cameras were off more than once acting like an actual human being with emotions. Hell, a lot of that, despite her efforts to contrary, had ended up _on_ camera. The truth was Kinga was insecure, and knew when something was going too far. Deep down she cared and had a good head on her shoulders. For the most part.

“I for one would _never_ endanger everyone by inviting a Mad to our Christmas party.”

“You meet up with Pearl to gossip about the rest us like once a month,” said Tom.

“Hey that’s different!”

“And Mike has his drinking nights with Bobo and Brain Guy,”

“I...that’s _completely_ different,” sputtered Mike.

“Really how?” asked Crow.

“Shh, don’t give him ammunition when he’s trying to prove us wrong,” said Mike.

Joel was the one with the skeptical look now, this time it was directed at Mike. Mike attempted to look innocent.

“Joel invited Frank to Turkey Day that one year he tried and failed to collect the soul of Zygi Wilf.”

“Oh come on now that wasn’t…”

“And Cambot technically betrayed us all by teaming up with the Mads in the first place to provide HD streaming for the revival, and contributed to our constant surveillance by the hands of the enemy since the day they came online.”

Cambot chirped angrily.

“Oh like it’s not true.”

“What’s your point Servo?” asked Mike.

“Well, as the only one of us that _hasn’t_ offered up an olive branch to our captors…”

“Technically you didn’t include Waverly or Growler,” said Joel.

“Technically as the only one us that hadn’t offered up an olive branch to our captors or wasn’t _built by Jonah_ …”

“Hey you forgot to incriminate Gyps too!” said Crow.

“Technically as the only one us that hadn’t offered up an olive branch to our captors or wasn’t built by Jonah or _isn’t currently here right now_ …I think that qualifies to be the voice of reason on the subject.”

That earned him some serious eye rolling from almost everyone present with eyes, but they let him continue.

“And Joel always says we should be welcoming to everyone on the holidays and that we should take the high road. Plus we shouldn’t _uninvite_ her.”

“Strictly speaking I didn’t invite her to the party, I just invited her to spend Christmas with me. The last thing I want to make anyone feel uncomfortable. I can always just not go.”

“No, Tom’s right,” said Joel. “We shouldn’t leave anyone out in the cold on Christmas. And she has been working with you for months now. For what it’s worth Gizmonics trusts her.”

“For what it’s worth I do not and nor have I ever trusted the Gizmonic Institute,” said Mike. “But yeah we shouldn’t turn her away. And we do want _you_ at the party. We don’t want you feel like you can’t come because you’re helping her out.”

Joel nodded. “The whole point is spending time together. SOL captives stick together.”

Mike took his husband into a side hug. “You told me that right before we got together,” he said. He gave Joel a peck, and Crow rolled his eyes again.

“Jonah, when you and Kinga get to that point give us all some warning so we can run and hide.”

“Wait. That’s not...that’s not what this is. I’m just being nice.”

“Uh huh. Great,” said Mike. “Just know kid while you’re being nice we’re obligated to tell you if she hurts you in way…”

“No that’s really not what this.”

“Jonah,” said Tom. “You seemed confused about how dating works. Do we need to get out all those black and white instructional shorts?”

“It’s just two friends going to a Christmas party together. Two friends that work together, and one time almost got married for a cynical rating stunt wedding. That’s it.”

“Uh huh,” said Crow skeptically. “Well see you two love birds Christmas Eve!”

“Jonah,” asked Waverly who had been quietly observing all of this. “If you marry Kinga for real this time can I be the ringbearer?”

Jonah’s face froze in terror.

 

The 24th came and Jonah stopped by Kinga’s to pick her up. Growler wanted to go over to Joel and Mike’s early so he could pick out music selections, and Waverly had tagged along with him. Leaving Jonah alone on his very much not a date.

And it was just that, very much, not a date. Even if Kinga looked...well amazing just about covered it. Gone were her usual selection of lab coats and villainous uniforms inspired by lab coats. Instead she was wearing a beautiful sparkly green Christmas gown. She pulled on a red coat with a festive holiday white faux trim. Jonah had to exert physical effort into getting his mouth to stop hanging open.

“Wow. I did tell you this would just be a couple of friends hanging out with Christmas music on in the background, right?”

Kinga suddenly looked sheepish. “I...kind of don’t have an excuse to wear this anywhere else.”

“Well you look great. Like really, really great.”

“Thanks. You look...you look like kind of like Harry Potter in that sweater?” Compliments still weren’t exactly her strong suit, but seemed half an attempt at one. “Is that the one Gypsum made? The time I made you all watch that weird Italian Christmas movie with the creepy lawyer?”

“Yeah that’s the one. It’s festive!”

“It’s...well it’s something,” she said. “Oh wait! I forgot something!” She ran back in and emerged with something under a green and red checkered blanket. The two drove their way over to Mike and Joel. They were greeted by an unexpected sight. A lot of cars. Cars that may have actually been spaceships, and were lining the street. All leading up to the house.

Jonah knocked hesitantly at the door.

Mike answered, flashing a smile that poorly disguised the fact he looked ready to strangle someone, and was really more concerned with yelling into the hallway behind him.

“Tom! Crow! How many more of these people did you...oh. Jonah it’s you. Welcome. Merry Christmas. In the spirit of Yuletide cheer I need to talk to my robots.” That last sentence was said with some clenched teeth.

“What happened? I thought it was just going to be us and a few of your neighbors?”

“Yeah remember that talk we had about goodwill, and taking the high road, and all that. After you guys left yesterday Tom took it upon himself to recruit Crow to help him invite...literally every person that’s ever bugged us on the SOL. Because goodwill or something.”

Peanut was swinging from the light fixture. Joel’s soft spoken “Hey uh, I’d really appreciate if you got down from there.” was having no effect on getting him to climb down. Mr. B Natural and Jack Perkins were in the middle of an intense make out session on the couch, as Larry from Time Travelers was putting away way, way too much eggnog in the corner.   

“Hi. We’ve never really talked before. I’m Kinga Forrester, but you knew that already. I kind of kidnapped your robots once. Sorry about that...I made cookies. Merry Christmas.”

The forced smile Kinga gave was not natural.

Mike’s face, already strained from trying to contain his annoyance at the chaos unfolding in his living room, was not hiding his disbelief at the exchange. Mercifully, for Kinga, he was interrupted.

“Don’t touch that lamp!” shouted Mike as a mole person scurried around the house.

Mike ran after the perpetrator as Jonah helped Kinga with her coat. And then they sat there. Awkwardly. Gypsum came over and took Jonah into a hug with her tubing, while carefully sizing up Kinga. Any attempt at an interrogation however was cut short once the large purple robot realized how much help the other humans needed with damage control. She immediately excused herself to help contain the weird Russian guy with his own bots that was hogging all the hot plates.

Jonah just rubbed his temples. “Sorry. This...this was supposed to be not whatever this is.”

“The Forrester in me kind of wants to enjoy their pain. But...I’m not my Dad. And I’m not my grandmother. And speaking as me, I’m about to step way out of my comfort zone and try something from the protagonist playbook.”

Kinga stood on the couch. With her boots on. While Jonah had seen the _Hobgoblins_ experiment tape before, he wasn’t sure how Kinga defying her grandmother’s strict furniture rules was going to save Joel and Mike’s home from being trashed.

“Attention visiting aliens in the form of fictional characters or whatever it is you all are. We were never really clear on that. There’s a flash Christmas sale on Jupiter. All items are 90 percent off.”

Somehow that actually worked. Within minutes everyone was clearing out. Jonah looked at her with a beaming smile, while Kinga looked impressed with herself. She took an extra moment to just bask in her triumph with her hands on her hips.

“Impressive. Pretty chaotic good as opposed to lawful good but I’ll take it,” laughed Jonah.

“Hey. I helped. And are you really telling me Jonah ‘rebel who plays by his own rules’ Heston thinks in terms of ‘lawful good’?”

“Okay that’s fair. Why Jupiter?”

“Because sending them to get Beer on the Sun would have been a murder charge. Or at least manslaughter.”

Jonah absentmindedly helped Joel steady the still shaking china cabinet (although how Crow and Servo hadn’t destroyed its content years ago was anyone’s guess). Everyone then collapsed on the couch and loveseat.

“On the one hand it seems against the spirit of the season to be happy a party got smaller,” said Joel.

“On the other you didn’t see what Jan in the Pan was doing to your workshop,” said Mike.

Joel stared for a second, considering something. “‘How about for the whole spirit of the holiday thing’ we try volunteering instead? There’s still time to sign everyone up for shifts at the soup kitchen tomorrow.”

“Huh,” said Mike “ that may actually be pretty nice. Believe it or not a was a halfway decent waiter several jobs ago.”

“I don’t believe it,” said Crow. “There’s no way you didn’t trip and spill hot soup on like everybody.”

“But that does sound fun, I mean being out and interacting with people that need it,” said Servo. “Sorry we inadvertently helped destroy the house…”

Joel smiled. “You meant well. And the place is still standing. Heck, I don’t even think anything _that_ valuable got scuffed up yet.”

“Yeah you really didn’t see what Jan did yet then.”

“Which soup kitchen?” asked Kinga. “I kinda just donated a bunch to the one on 11th South, and it’d be great to help in person too. I know I’m still not the best with people but…”

“You donated?” asked Jonah surprised. “How very non-capitalist of you.”

“Yeah well, I am serious about this whole trying to be a better person thing. It’s a work in progress but it seemed like a good place to start.”

Jonah was impressed. Legitimately impressed. And he felt all fuzzy again.

“Hey guys!” exclaimed Crow. “It’s snowing! Can we go out and have a snowball fight? Please?”

Everyone bundled up and piled outside. The light was hitting the snow in such a way it glistened under the sun, and the snow was falling in such a way it was perfect for snowball formation. Growler and Waverly were perhaps predictably Crow’s primary targets, and even with his now posable arms, Servo’s only real tactile advantage over the others was hovering away from the incoming projectiles. Gypsum made up for the fact she was a large target with no arms by dumping entire piles on her brothers from her mouth. Cambot got creative, and scooped up snow with the flaps of their casing. Mike cheekily threw some snowballs at Joel, who just so happened to whip out a snowball thrower he made that vaguely resembled a t-shirt gun.

“Cheater,” accused his husband. Who then started pelting him at close range.

Jonah was usually just a tad bit over competitive in situations like this, but decided to restrain himself and instead just watch the merriment. Kinga did the same, and they found themselves locking hands. A strand of her hair came loose from under the Santa hat she was wearing, and Jonah carefully leaned down to move it out of her eyes. He stared at her face and couldn’t help but break into a goofy grin as she stared back at his. She had a really pretty, shiny lipgloss on. Leaning this far down was kind of a strain on his neck, but he did so anyways and quickly, without even really thinking about it, kissed her. Kinga grabbed onto his face and kissed back. Just in time for the two to look around and realize not only were they surrounded, but there was an incoming of a lot snow projectiles. From everyone present.

She looked peeved for a second as the snow bounced off her jacket, before breaking into a devious smile. “Team up time?”

“Oh it is so on,” said Jonah.

The two locked hands again, and waged their snowball war against the gathered collection of robots and humans.


End file.
